Spy Game
by Arayelle Lynn
Summary: The reappearence of a lost past thrusts the Tracys into the world of intrigue and unimaginable dangers. Only by staying together will they survive the outcome. But how can they when the gap between trust and betrayal are painfully thin?
1. The Intruder

**DISCLAIMER:** I just want to get this straight. Thunderbird DOES NOT belong to me. It belongs to Carlton and Gary Anderson. Me, I'm just here to wreck the whole things up. Oh, and feedback, review, flames whatever you call it, are welcome ☺

**SPYGAME: THE INTRUDER.**

By Arayelle Lynn.

"That's the last of them, Virg," Scott announced as he helped the woman up through the hole. Checking to see if he had missed anyone else, he heard a rumbling sound as the earth beneath him shifted a little.

"Better get out of there, Scott. The building is about to collapse," Virgil advised, his hand thrusted into the hole. "Here, let me help you up," he offered.

"Good idea." Scott grasped his hand as his brother pulled him out. Once he was outside the dark hole, his eyes had to readjust due to the sudden brightness of the sun. But before his eyes could fully recover, he felt himself being pushed forward by Virgil. Then, there was another rumbling sound, this time louder, as the building totally collapsed in ruins.

Dusts clouded their vision as they coughed, wiping the tears in their eyes. A second later, someone grabbed their arms and helped them navigate their way. "You two alright?" asked the concerned voice of Alan Tracy, their younger brother.

Scott coughed. "Yeah, that was a close one."

"You can say that again," Virgil rasped. He seemed to be wheezing.

After making sure that they were distance away from the catastrophe, the three young men looked back. Sure enough, the apartment building that once housed forty tenants lay in ruins. But thankfully enough, they managed to rescue everyone without any serious injury.

Nobody knew how the building had collapsed. Reports indicated that the building had a satisfactorily structural integrity. Plus, the building was only two years old, so it should've been able to stand for years to come. But here, it all started when the lower section of the building began to sink into the earth, as if something was swallowing it. From the witnesses' statements, some heard a low explosion, while some claimed that they heard a rumbling sound from below before the building collapses.

But one thing for sure, it had been serious enough for the authorities to call up International Rescue. They didn't have equipment as high tech and sophisticated as International Rescue's so they didn't dare to rescue the trapped tenants from the fragile ruin.

Thankfully, International Rescue had been prompt enough in their response. And soon, everyone especially the tenants, were able to breathe a sigh of relief. But to the three young men, it was hardly over.

"What do you think makes the building went down like that?" Alan wondered.

"No idea," Scott answered. "But whatever it was, I have a very peculiar feeling."

Virgil stifled a cough to voice his agreement. "Me too," he gasped, fighting to clear his throat. Hearing his ragged breathing, Scott and Alan looked at him in concern. "You okay, Virgil? You don't sound so good," Alan asked while Scott nodded, putting an arm around his younger brother.

The second son of Jeff Tracy coughed again. "Just need a little bit of fresh air, is all. Don't worry about it."

"Worry, schmorry. We're all pretty beat up and we badly need some rest," said Scott, knowing that he would kick himself if something were to happen to his brothers. He looked at Alan. "Why don't you ride with Virgil? I'll feel much better knowing you and Gordon will be watching him."

Virgil was about to protest when another coughing fit hit him. Then, smiling rather sheepishly, he looked at his protective brother. "I guess you're right."

"You know I'm right." Scott shrugged. He playfully pushed his brother towards Thunderbird 2. "Go on. Gordon's already docked Thunderbird 3. I think he's rather impatient to leave."

The two turned to see their other brother standing at the mouth of Thunderbird 2, his arms crossed and feet tapping. "Right! I forgot that he's favourite TV programme is starting," Alan gasped, glancing at his watch.

They chuckled and two of the brothers walked up to join Gordon. Scott waited before he made his way to his own craft.

"Hey, mister," said a voice. He turned to see a freckle-faced boy of 15 years old. His brown hair was hidden under a blue cap, which almost covered his eyes. His flannel shirt was rather dusty and there's a small tear on one of his sleeves. Scott immediately recognized him.

"Hey, kid," he said as the boy came over. "How's your grandma doing?" The boy had been one of the victims trapped in the hole. When Scott first met him, he was trying to comfort the panicking victims and at the same time tending to his unconscious grandmother. What made Scott singled this boy out was that he had been the one who stayed below to help Scott with the victims. He had shown great courage and deep sense of calm that Scott rarely found in other ordinary people. That and his sense of duty impressed Scott.

The boy looked back at the retreating ambulance. "She'll be fine. There wasn't any room left for me to take a ride to the hospital." He spread his arms. "And as you can see, I barely count as an injured victim."

"Yeah, well maybe the police would give you a ride. After all, the hospital people might want to see you. It's standard procedure," said Scott, nodding at the row of patrol cars with some of the victims in it.

The boy waved off his words, nonchalantly. Then, he looked at Scott rather timidly. "Actually I was hoping that you would take me a ride on that cool craft," he said, his dark brown eyes eyeing Thunderbird 1 in awe.

As much as Scott liked the boy, he had to decline. "No can do, kid. It's against the rules. I'm sorry."

The boy looked disappointed and Scott found himself disliking it. Then, the boy gave him a smile and a wave. "It's okay," he said. "I guess you're leaving now. You sure look like you need a good bath… and a good scrub."

Scott reached over and playfully pulled the cap even lower. "Look who's talking. Take care of yourself, kid."

The boy pushed the cap back. "Right back at you."

Just as the boy said that, they heard a humming sound. Then, Scott found himself looking up as Thunderbird 2 ascended. He wasn't at all worried about getting home the last one. His high-speed craft could catch up with Virgil's easily. As his brother's green craft disappeared into the horizon, Scott ran his hand through his hair, dusting off the dusts. He turned back to regard the boy and found him gone. So was one of the patrol cars.

"Strange kid," he muttered to himself. Though the boy had the look of a 15-year-old, his voice sounded as if he was only 13. "Maybe it's the way he carries himself around that made him look older. Who knows, maybe the kid'll end up changing the world."

Seeing that his presence was no longer needed, Scott trudged up the ramp tiredly. He went to the cockpit, reported his departure to his father and brought his craft up. Without Alan riding with him this time, the cockpit seemed to be pretty quiet, as usual, except for the gentle hum of the engine. Scott let himself to feel at ease with the serenity until he detected an alien presence behind him.

Before he could turn around, he felt a cold, hard thing pressed behind his left ear. "Don't turn around, if you value your life," said a whispering voice. Scott mentally kicked himself at not having his craft checked for intrusion before he departed. He must've been pretty tired to have forgotten one of the most important procedures.

And now, because of his mistake, he's handing the secret of the Tracy's family to an enemy.

"What do you want?" he asked, knowing full well what this hijacker was after.

"Simple. We're going back home," said the voice. Scott failed to identify the person's gender. And he was mildly surprise by the hijacker's answer. Why would this person want the location of Tracy Island? Didn't he know that he would be apprehended by the Tracys once they land?

Whatever the answer was, Scott couldn't let the hijacker know the location of the island. Maybe he had other reason for wanting to know where the island was. Or maybe he was carrying a homing device that would alert his accomplices. No, this is not going to simply be a ride home for me, he decided.

And so, as he piloted, Scott devised a plan. The hijacker never left his side so Scott could barely reach over to the emergency button he had under the controls. And the gun was always pressing against his back ear so Scott hadn't dared to make any sudden move. His only hope was that when his father realized that he's not keeping in touch as scheduled, he would know that something had gone wrong.

"Don't even think about touching the button," the voice warned, startling Scott. He hadn't realized that his hand had been moving under the control panel. "I know all about it. And your craft as well. So, don't do anything stupid."

"Why are you doing this?" Scott decided to break the silence. He wanted to know more about his hijacker.

But the unknown person seemed to be in no mood for a conversation. Soon, the shroud of silence fell on them again. And it was then, Scott gently put his plan into motion. He pulled the throttle a little to one side.

However, his plan backfired when the hijacker nudged the gun. "We've veered two degrees off the intended course. Fix that now," the person ordered. Scott was truly surprised at this that he didn't obey until he felt the gun nudging him again. How did he know that they were off course?

"I know where Tracy Island is," said the hijacker as his answer. "You're just my ride to get there."

"How did you know…?"

"You'll be surprised by how much I know about you, Scott Tracy. And your _entire_ family," said the person, emphasizing the word, though the emphasis was lost to Scott due to his profound surprise.

"If you've known the location, why not go there yourself?" he prompted. He was glad the hijacker was finally opening up.

The person snorted, and Scott still failed to determine his hijacker's gender. He was good at keeping his identity. He was probably a world-class hijacker, Scott mused. "I'm not as dumb as your average bad guy. I know that if I am to take a boat or even a craft to your island, you would detect me from miles away and would move your island away." The person sensed Scott's astonishment. "Yes, I do know about your island's mobility as well."

Yep, definitely not your average hijacker. This person's a professional.

'And that rules out the Hood! Unless he's taking pains now to hire professional hijacker,' Scott thought to himself. Then he sensed the hijacker glanced at his watch.

"Your father should be contacting you right about now," said the hijacker, which again surprised Scott. And as he said that, the comm. beeped. "I know that it's procedure to contact your base after an hour of departure. I know it serves as an all-clear signal to your father."

He nudged the gun. "Go ahead, answer that call," he instructed. "Tell him your 15 minutes ETA. But don't do anything stupid. He might not want to see his son getting hurt. And I'm a very sharp shooter. I can hit you even if I'm sitting down."

With that, Scott felt the gun left his ear as the hijacker took cover behind the seat. Even so, Scott didn't plan to make a single move. He could easily feel the gun jabbing his right kidney. Gulping, fighting hard to remain calm, he answered the call.

His father appeared on the screen. "What took you so long, Scott? Why didn't you contact us?" were his father's first questions. Seeing his face gave Scott an idea.

"Uh, nothing dad. I guess I must've been pretty tired that I forgot about it," he answered, surprised by the calm in his voice. "Has Thunderbird 2 arrived yet?"

"They're docking. What's your ETA?"

"Ten minutes," he answered, without a second glance at the chronometer. He needed to look directly at his father.

"Well, hurry up. You won't want to miss dinner. You know how Gordon eats."

Scott gave his father a smile. He knew that his father had gotten the message. "I'm there already, dad."

>>>>>>

The instant Scott was late to contact him made Jeff Tracy realized that something was amiss. Responsible-bound Scott would never forget procedures. In fact, at times, it was _he_ who reminded his father of them. So, when he at last established contact with his son, Jeff discovered that he had been right. As he was acting as if nothing was wrong, Scott Tracy had sent a Morse code cry for help by slightly blinking his eyes.

It said, 'TB 1 compromise. No option. Target: the island. Advice?'

And Jeff had sent his own secret message in telling his eldest son to keep the charade while he and his other sons would spring a trap to capture the hijacker once they land on the island. So, he called up all of them, including the one in outer space.

"What is it, dad?" asked Virgil. He was still wearing his dust-covered uniform. Neither he nor Alan and Gordon had any time to change before their father called them up, rather urgently. Jeff regarded all his sons carefully.

"We have security breach. Thunderbird 1 has been hijacked."

The response was expected. Each boys and girls, counting Tin Tin and Grandma Tracy, looked at each other in shock. "How?"

"Is Scott alright?"

"What do we do?"

"Who are they?" were the questions that rained on Jeff Tracy. To stop them, he put out his hand.

"We don't have much time. Scott said that they'll be here in less than 10, so we need to work quickly," he continued. He turned to Virgil. "How are you feeling?" he asked his second son.

Too anxious to worry about himself, Virgil swallowed a cough. "Better."

"Good, because I need you and Gordon to help me subdue the hijacker. We don't really know if Scott would be in any position to do it himself so I'll need you two," he said, relaying his plan to them. He turned to Alan and the others. "Alan, you and Brain'll be watching the outer door of the hangar. If the hijacker managed to get through Virgil, Gordon and Scott, we need someone there to stop him."

"And for the rest of you, you're going to be here in this room acting as if nothing has happen," he instructed.

"What about you, Mr. Tracy? Where would you be?" asked Tin Tin.

Jeff gave them a grim smile. "Why, to do things any great fathers would do. I'm welcoming my son home."

>>>>>>

Scott landed Thunderbird 1 gently. Though he barely showed it, he was feeling very nervous inside. He didn't know what his father had planned to handle the situation. He didn't know what would be the outcome of everything that was happening. But most of all, and he was tearing himself up with it, was not knowing if any of his family could get hurt by this. Although the hijacker hadn't made a single death threat, Scott knew that he's capable of doing just that. But Scott was determined not to let that happen, especially when it involved his family.

"Move," the person instructed. Scott stood and discovered that the person wasn't any taller than him. In fact, and he saw this from the corner of his eyes, the hijacker was only a head shorter than him! "Don't turn around. Just move to the door and down the ramp." He grasped a handful of Scott's back collar and pushed him forward.

Scott obeyed. The hangar was clear. There was no sign of anyone, as it should be. Again, Scott wondered what his father plan was. He didn't see anything out of ordinary in the hangar. In fact, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

As they reached the bottom of the ramp, the hijacker released his hold on Scott. "Alright, we better drop the charade. I wasn't really going to hurt you," the person was saying when suddenly Scott heard the sound of rushing feet from behind them. Then, everything went a little chaotic as Scott felt himself being pushed forward and the sound of a heavy metal thing hitting the floor.

"I surrender," said the hijacker before Virgil and Gordon could get a hold of him. Once he dropped the gun to the floor, Virgil and Gordon quickly took his arms. "I'm unarmed."

"Unarmed?" Gordon echoed, his eyes widened at the sight of the gun on the floor. He was still trying to piece out the puzzle as to why the hijacker, who went through all these, not giving a struggle at all.

"It's not loaded," the hijacker said as Scott picked up the gun. He checked it and confirmed his answer. "He's right. It's empty." He looked up to his captor and gasped. "You're that kid!" was all he managed. His hijacker had been the freckle-faced boy!

"You know him?" asked Gordon, who never met the kid before.

Virgil took a second look. "Yeah, we do. He's the one who helped us with the rescue. He's okay, I guess," said Virgil doubtfully.

But Gordon was still dissatisfied. He looked at Scott while Virgil looked at the shadow behind Scott for further instruction. "I don't get it? Why was a kid going around waving a gun at people? Why was a kid going around hijacking people? _And_ why went to all that trouble just to surrender to us in the end?" said Gordon, looking at the hijacker, who was about his height, suspiciously.

"Simple. I just want to talk to the head of the Tracy's family," said the kid, his innocent kid-like demeanor vanished. In replacement was a serious boy who's taking no nonsense. He stared at the shadow behind Scott. "It's _very_ important."

Jeff Tracy stepped into the light. "Alright, you caught my attention. Why do you want to talk to me?" he said, giving his eldest son a squeeze on the shoulder to tell him how glad he was that Scott was safe. Then, he looked at the boy before him. He was deeply impressed by the skills that the boy had shown in thwarting International Rescue's security. That and a little concern as to what brought the boy to them and if the enemy had somehow acquired ways to turn boys into spies.

The boy looked at Virgil, Gordon then finally at Scott. His serious demeanor never changed. Then, he shook his head. "It's classified. I need to speak to you first," said the boy, his eyes held a look that he would not accept otherwise.

The look he gave him sent a chill up Jeff's spine. He had seen that look before. A very long time ago. Frowning, Jeff Tracy stepped closer to the boy to see him more closely. "Who are you, young man?" he asked, knowing the boy couldn't be more than 17.

"That's classified information for now, sir," he answered, his words made him sound like one who worked for the government. "But I have a name that you'll recognized anywhere," he said. "Brittany Claire Dermont."

Never before had Scott, Virgil and Gordon saw their father paled. By just looking at him, they knew that their father had recognized the name. But the question was, what's the significant of that name? Recovering quickly, Jeff Tracy nodded at his two sons. "Release him," he said.

"Father?" Gordon voiced, disbelief. Virgil had already released his hold.

"It's fine, Gordon. I want to talk to this kid myself," said his father. Reluctantly, Gordon released his hold and the boy made his way towards Mr. Tracy.

"Is there any place private for us to talk?" he asked, looking up to the taller man.

Mr. Tracy snapped himself out of his reverie. "Yes," he said, then turned to his sons. "Boys, why don't you go get yourself clean up ad ready for dinner? And please, tell grandma and Tin Tin that everything's alright."

Sparing a glance at the boy, Scott ushered his brothers out. He had known that the boy had been different. But would he be causing them trouble? As much as he wanted to stay around and protect his father, Scott knew that he must get his brothers up. Virgil's face was getting redder from stifling his cough and Gordon just looked plain beat. Even he himself must've looked the same.

No, he had seen the boy's sincerity, had sensed his good intention. Whatever the boy's story was all about, he's sure that the boy could've done worse but he chose not to hurt Scott or even threatened his life. All he wanted was for Scott to bring him to his father.

And he did.

>>>>>>

The second Scott stepped into the living room, clean and fresh, he was surrounded by concerned family members. Since he had given Gordon the job of telling everybody that everything was fine, they hadn't been able to see Scott until he showed up a few minutes later, looking rather calm. But there's a certain eagerness in his eyes that they could clearly see.

"Has dad come up yet?" asked Gordon, who had taken a record-breaking time at the shower. Like others, he too was eager to know what his father and the boy were talking about downstairs.

"No," said Alan, also clean. "And don't say that you're dying to know what's going on because we all are."

John, who was on Thunderbird 5, shook his head. "Let's give the two some time alone first. Dad'll tell us everything if he feels that we should know," said the most patient Tracy.

"And it's all well rewarded, John," said the voice of their father coming into the room. They all turned their attention to him. "Where's the kid?" asked Scott, seeing that his father had entered alone.

"I'm here," said a voice behind Jeff Tracy. Scott was surprised at the changes that took place in the boy's feature. Gone was the serious look, replaced by a look of a happy kid who had just found his lost toys. And gone also was the freckles on his face, leaving a clear and smooth face. All in all, this was hardly the same boy that hijacked Thunderbird 1. And also the cocky boy Scott met at the ruins.

"Hey, people," the boy said, giving them a small wave of greeting. He was looking at them rather shyly.

"Dad, what's going on?" asked Virgil also noticing the changes. Grandma Tracy was busy readjusting her glasses, her eyes staring hard at the boy, blinking in disbelief.

Jeff smiled at the boy, nudging him forward. Once the boy stood beside him, Jeff put a hand on his shoulder. "Boys, I would like you to meet your cousin, Valerie Carter."

"Valerie?" they all chorused.

The boy took off his cap. A long silky honey brown hair fell onto his shoulders, revealing a totally new face. The boy had suddenly transformed into a girl!

Suddenly, Grandma Tracy let out a squeal that rivaled a ten-year-old-girl. She went over to the girl, hugging and kissing her until the girl gave the look of someone being smothered. Looking at her expression, something clicked in Scott's mind. That surprised him even more than when he found out that Thunderbird 1 was hijacked.

"Val? Val Carter?" he gasped. Hearing him, his brothers looked at him and back at the girl. Even they couldn't believe their eyes. For the person standing before them was long-time considered dead!

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So, what do you think? Is this story worth a second chapter? Tell me.


	2. The Dead One

**DISCLAIMER:** I just want to get this straight. Thunderbird DOES NOT belong to me. It belongs to Carlton and Gary Anderson. Me, I'm just here to wreck the whole things up. Oh, and feedback, review, flames whatever you call it, are welcome ☺

**SPYGAME: THE DEAD ONE.**

By Arayelle Lynn.

"That's me," she said, casting an uncertain glance at Jeff Tracy. She could see the haunted look on their faces, which had mirrored their father's a few minutes ago. So she kept herself from shrinking back under the scrutiny.

"B… but how? You're dead!" said Virgil, his eyes wide. "Your whole family was…"

"Killed, I know," she said, bracing herself for another round of explanations. "As you can see, I'm quite alive." She spread her arms wide dramatically. But still, the doubtful look stayed on their faces. She sighed. "I guess I will have to explain everything, won't I?"

Virgil watched the girl before him. Though she was slightly grown up, he could clearly see the little girl he had once befriended. But this girl was supposed to be dead for over ten years. Why was she still alive? And here?

"Virgie?" she called the nickname she gave him. He looked at her, broken from his reverie. "You might want to sit down for this," she said, nodding at the sofa. She was already leaning on Jeff Tracy's table and his family was already sitting down. Eyes still watching the supposedly dead girl, Virgil sat.

"Let see," she began, as if telling a bedtime story. "You all knew that my dad worked for the US government, right?"

"Uncle Dean, that's right," said Scott, his mind was already processing the information as he always does.

"Well, one of his cases had put him in danger," she continued. "In fact, it was so dangerous that they had to put us in protective custody."

Virgil nodded. He remembered that day vaguely. He was only ten then and Valerie had came over for a visit, as usual. But later that night, Dean Carter had come with two black-dressed men and took Valerie away. None of the boys understood what happened that night until years later. But one thing they knew was that that was the last time they saw Valerie.

Until now.

Valerie continued with her story. "We were sent to a small town in Nevada, where we were given new identities. Everything went great until two years later."

'Yeah,' John thought to himself. 'That was when we got the news.'

"Dad's enemy found us and rigged our house to explode."

"That's what we've heard," said Scott, barely covering the skepticism in his voice.

Valerie looked at him, sorrowfully. "Mom and dad were killed in that explosion," she said. "And a little girl. I wasn't exactly there when it happened."

"So, what happened? How did you survived?" asked Gordon.

"I was saved by an agent, my father's friend. He managed to figure out that the enemy discovered our hideout and tried to warn my father. But he managed to save only me." She spread her arms again. "That's how I came to be quite alive."

"But how can we be sure of that?" asked Scott. He looked at his father.

Jeff cleared his throat. "I've asked Brains to run a DNA test. While we're waiting for the result, she'll be staying here." He turned to her. "I'm sorry. We can't let you roam around free as yet."

"Understood," she said.

"But why now? After all these years?" asked John from Thunderbird 5. "Why do you finally show up now?"

She looked at the screen, seeing her old playmate once again. "I had to come," she said, glancing at Mr. Tracy again. Then, her eyes swept upon all of them. "You're all in danger."

**xxxXxxx**

"In danger? From what?" asked the ever-concerned Grandma Tracy. When it comes to her family, she was the most protective.

Scott and his brothers exchanged glances and then look at their father. By the expression on his face, he had already been informed of the danger. And so, they returned their attention on her. "Could you elaborate on that, Valerie?" asked Scott as the spokesperson of the boys.

"Not Valerie," she said, shaking her head. "I don't go by that name anymore, Scott. Not for a long time now. Call me Claire. Claire Hudson. That's the name I'm using now."

"Alright, Claire," said Scott. He was a little stunned by the use of his late aunt's name. But letting Valerie used it was just right since she was _her_ mother. Of course, if she was really who she said she was.

_Claire_ pushed herself from the table, regarding them all seriously. "What I'm telling you now must stay in this room," she said, her voice suddenly deep. "Do I make myself clear?" Getting nods of agreement from all of her audience, she continued, "I am a member of a top secret organization called the I.C.C.A."

"I.C.C.A.?" Alan echoed. "I've never…"

"Heard of us?" Valerie-now-Claire finished for him. "You're not supposed to. We take very high priority in keeping our secrecy."

"What is I.C.C.A.?" asked Tin Tin, curiously.

"It stands for International Crime Counteract Agency," she answered, turning to the Malaysian girl. Her dark brown eyes studied her for a split second, as if deciding to trust a non-family member. Then seeing how Gordon and Alan sitting comfortably on either side of her, Claire mentally nod her satisfaction.

"We're who you'd contact if things go badly wrong," she explained. When Alan was about to open his mouth, she raised her hand. "No, this has nothing to do with the Hood."

The Tracys exchanged glances. They were surprised that she knew of their arch nemesis.

"No, this time your enemy is none other than my own agency."

That shocked all of them. Each exchanged surprise glances before turning to the bearer of the news. Claire watched them all carefully, her emotions were well-concealed. She patiently waited for the questions that would be bombarded onto her.

But that didn't happen. Instead, Scott Tracy neatly wrapped them all up in one word. "Explain."

Taking a deep breath, she explained. "Someone in the agency has gotten a little too interested in your operation. Mainly, your 'equipment'," she said. Then she smiled at Jeff. "You've made a hell of great inventions, Uncle Jeff." Then, she continued.

"When I was doing a thorough system analysis a few months ago, I stumbled upon a plot. It seems that they're planning to steal your technology." That should've been no surprise to them but the family members were startled at hearing that an international agency was watching them.

Claire let the information sink in before continuing. "As you probably know, information of your Thunderbird technology is priceless in the black market. But I'm afraid that it's even worse." She looked at all of them carefully. "Based on the information I've gathered, I suspect that they're planning to use your technology to make weaponry."

"And if we don't stop them now, we'll have a world war at hand."

**xxxXxxx**

"Just wait a freaking minute," said Gordon, startling all of them. He turned to Claire. "You're one of them. Can we really trust you? How can we be sure if you're really on our side?"

She looked at him, apologetically. "You can't. You'll just have to trust me." She looked at them all. "There are still many good men in the agency. They are those who aren't even aware that there are hidden plots within the agency. You have to understand that the agency is big as it is discreet. There are many layers of secrets in which not all of us are aware of, for protection. If I hadn't done that system analysis, I wouldn't have known about this."

"However, it seems that a few agents have gotten rather ambitious and they're the ones we need to put a stop to," she continued. Then she leaned back and sighed. "I've spent months trying to find all I can on the operation and how to get to you until today," she said, looking at Virgil and Scott. "Sorry for pointing the gun at you, Scott."

He nodded her apology away. But his eyebrow furrowed from thinking. He wanted to believe her but he got a nagging feeling that she wasn't telling them the whole story. Before he could ask her anything, Jeff Tracy spoke up.

"We're all pretty tired and shaken. Let's stop here and ready for dinner." He turned to Kyrano, who was just entering. "We have a guest for dinner, Kyrano."

Kyrano regarded the young lady and nodded. "Brains has informed me of the latest addition. And oh, dinner is served, sir."

"Thank you, Kyrano," said Jeff, ushering Claire out. "I know it's been awkward but I hope you'll enjoy dinner, for it has been a long time since you eat with family." Claire smiled appreciatively but didn't miss the look of skepticism the younger Tracys were giving her. "And hopefully, we'll chat about old times," the older Tracy added, giving his sons a small nod.

**xxxXxxx**

They all watched her like a hawk throughout dinner. They talked and asked questions about their past adventures and even produced some trick questions and remarks just to catch the newcomer off guard. But it was either the girl had done her homework or she was who she claimed she was because she could easily carried out the conversation without missing a beat.

So, when Kyrano finally stand to collect the plates, they were all exhausted but well fed. From Tin Tin's point of view, Claire fit right into the family as if she was really family! She calmly answered their inquiries and even reminded the Tracys some of the memories forgotten by time. And not long after that, the Tracys were beginning to forget that the girl was an intruder and that she was claiming to be someone long dead.

"Dinner was great, Kyrano. I've never had anything like it before," said Claire, smiling appreciatively at Tin Tin's father. "My idea of dinner back home would be pizza and Chinese food."

"Thank you, Miss Claire. May I offer you the recipes for your future delicacy?" he offered her, pleased by the compliment.

She looked at him in mock horror. "God, no. I hate cooking."

"Don't, Kyrano," said Virgil, barely keeping his face straight. "One time, when she tried to cook dinner, she nearly burned the whole place down."

"Yeah, and John ended up in the hospital for food poisoning because of one of her 'special recipes'," Scott quipped, laughing.

Claire blushed, as the table roared with laughter. When it finally subsided, she turned to Kyrano. "Seriously, Kyrano. You do not _ever_ want to give a recipe to a girl who flunked homeroom and chemistry in high school. Kitchen and I just don't mix, uh…uh."

The whole table roared with laughter some more. Laughing along, Tin Tin wished that John was there as well. And seeing Claire glancing at an empty chair at the table told her that the girl was thinking of the same thing too.

"Tin Tin, why don't you and mother take Claire to the living room? We'll help Kyrano clear the table tonight," Jeff Tracy suggested, taking his plate and Claire's with him. Knowing that he wanted to have some time to compare notes with his sons, Tin Tin led the other two women out.

Jeff turned to his sons. "Well, what do you think?"

Scott frowned, seemingly deep in thought. "It's too hard to say, dad," he answered, representing his brothers. "Her knowledge of our past with the real Valerie coincides flawlessly. It's hard to tell whether she's lying about herself and somehow knew about our cousin."

"Or she could be telling the truth," said Virgil. Throughout dinner, he had felt uncomfortably close to the girl as though she was really his old playmate. And he wanted to believe that he had found her again. "Gordon? Alan?" he asked his two younger brothers.

The two looked at them uncomfortably. "We…uh… decided that we have no right to say anything because we hardly know Valerie. We're still young when she was killed, remember?" said Gordon.

"That's right, about the only people who're really close to her was Scott, John and me since we're at about the same age," said Virgil. "What do you think, dad?"

His father sighed. He too, hoped that the girl was his missing niece. Her father, Dean Carter, had been the closest friend he ever had and he and Lucille had treated Valerie Carter like one of their own. "I don't know, Virgil. She seemed convincing enough. I guess, we'll learn the truth once Brains completed the DNA test."

"So, in the meantime, we do not let her out of our sight. All night, if necessary."

The boys nodded. "Got that."

**xxxXxxx**

When they returned to the living room, Tin Tin and Grandma Tracy were chatting with Claire on the balcony. They were all staring at the glowing moon with the cool wind air sweeping their hairs. They turned when they heard the male Tracys came in. Claire was smiling happily.

"Ladies," said Jeff Tracy, handing his mother a cup of coffee. Gordon gave one to Tin Tin while Scott handed Claire another. She took it with an appreciative smile at him. Then, all of them settled down on the sofas while Virgil made his way to the piano and started playing his sonata like he always does after dinner.

"Oh!" Claire sat up, joining Virgil at the piano. Her fingers trailed along the piano. "I remember this. You'd usually play it after we have dinner." She looked at him in admiration. "You're always a great player, even as a child."

"You think so?" asked Virgil, beaming with pride.

She nodded. "I _know_ so," she said, then sitting down next to him. "And usually, I would sit down with you and watch you play for hours." Then she looked at Scott, or rather the empty spot on the couch beside him. "Then when I get sleepy, I would sit with Scott and sleep on his shoulder."

"What! Are you sure that you didn't ask him to dance?" Virgil teased, but his intention was noted silently by his family. Claire stuck a tongue out at him. "You silly, I hate dancing, remember?"

"I remember," he said, nodding to himself. "In fact, you were a wild tomboy then." He looked at her, his expression was serious. "So, what _are_ you now?" he whispered his question at her. Startled, Claire turned her face away and walked out to the balcony.

Sensing her mood, Scott joined her. "It's going to take a lot to convince you people that I'm really your cousin, isn't it, Scott?" she asked, knowing who he was without turning.

"It's hard to swallow, that I can say," he answered. "We really thought that you're dead."

She smiled bitterly. "And that made it even harder to believe. You do not wish to keep you hopes up. Especially when so many things are at risk. Your identities, your technologies." She paused. "Your friends." There was a faint hint of loneliness in her voice.

Scott opened his mouth to apologize but closed it instead. He found that he could say nothing to reassure the girl since he himself was still unconvinced. So, he leaned against the railing, next to her. "No matter," she said, turning to regard him. "If you don't believe who I am, at least you should believe what I said about the people at the agency because they're really dangerous." There was a genuine concern on her face.

He let her comment passed. For a moment, they stood on the balcony silently, looking out to the sea. "I miss the ranch," said Claire suddenly. She looked at Scott and then at Virgil who had joined them. "And I miss Aunt Lucille. I'm so sorry to have missed her funeral."

Neither boys spoke but both were aware of Alan and Gordon, joining them after Grandma Tracy and Tin Tin retired for the night. Jeff Tracy watched his sons before making his way to the lab. "Do you remember the games we used to play?" Claire suddenly asked. There was a smile on her face.

"Yeah?" said Virgil, frowning. "Which one?"

"You know, Robin Hood," she reminded him. "You used to play King John and Scott was Robin."

"That's right!" said Virgil, brightening as the memories flooded back. "And you played Marion, right?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Nope, I hate dressing up so you made me Little John." She nodded at Gordon. "We bullied Gordon to be Marion since he was too small to fight all of us…"

"Hey," Gordon protested, blushing.

"And John was the Sheriff," she finished. Seeing the look Alan was giving her, she added. "Sorry, kid but you were much too small to join us back then. Usually, we made you watch the whole thing until you decided that you had had enough and cried."

"I did not cry!" said Alan, indignantly.

Scott put a hand on his shoulder. "I hate to be telling you this, Al, but you _did_ cry."

"In fact, you were a crybaby then," Virgil helpfully put in. All except Alan laughed.

Claire reached over and pinched Alan's cheek. "Don't feel so bad, Alan. You're the only reason why my mom and dad let me hang out at your place ever so often. They always took in my 'babysitting-Alan' reason. Without that, they'd be thinking that I'm being a nuisance to your household."

"Which is what you were, Claire," Virgil added, earning a playful punched on his shoulder. "But I would like to place a complaint." He thumbed at Scott. "Why was Scott always the one playing the hero?"

"Stop complaining, little brother. I can't help it if I got a hero material in me," said Scott, ruffling Virgil hair. "Besides, I did let you play the hero once, remember?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Knights, remember? I let you be King Arthur."

Virgil smoothed his hair, scowling. "Yeah, but you made Gordon Guinevere. I got my kid _brother_ for a queen!" He turned to Claire. "Why could it not be you?"

She looked at him, smiling sweetly. "Because if you had asked me then, Virgil Tracy, I would've punched your nose." She grinned when Virgil playfully hid his nose behind his palm. Gordon sighed and looked at Alan. "Why must I play the ones that needed rescuing?"

**xxxXxxx**

"Eureka!" Brains burst into the lounge, startling the sleeping occupants. The boys rubbed their eyes, noticing that the sun was already up. Brains shook his head at the sight before him. Scott was slumping on his father's seat, Virgil and Gordon were yawning on the couch while Alan was stretching on the floor.

"Morning," he finally said in amusement. "I guess neither of you managed to get to your beds last night."

"Naw," said Scott, yawning until his jaw popped. "We were busy talking and…" he suddenly jumped up and looked around. "Where's Claire?" he asked, noticing an empty settee.

"Here," said a voice behind Brains. They looked up to see Claire and Tin Tin. Both were looking fresh and Claire seemed to be wearing one of Tin Tin's outfits. "I got up early and saw Tin Tin came in. I asked for a shower and she led me to the guest room."

"Morning, everybody." Jeff walked in. He saw the state of his sons and raised his eyebrow teasingly. "I take it you had a comfortable sleep?"

Alan groaned as he stood up. "Ohh… my aching back." He glared at Gordon. "The next time we're caught doing this, you're going to be the one sleeping on the floor."

"It's not my fault you lost the coin toss," said Gordon, shrugging.

"We got so caught up with chatting that we didn't realized that we've fallen asleep," said Scott, sheepishly. He and Virgil had been the ones who first lost the fight against sleepiness. Then, while Gordon and Alan were busy arguing about who was Aunt Claire's favorite nephew, Claire herself drifted off. Finally, Alan and Gordon gave up and were too lazy to get to their rooms. So, they all ended up sleeping in the lounge.

Jeff nodded. "I can see that." He turned to Brains. "You have something for us?" he asked. Remembering what Brains was up to, the boys straightened and looked at him expectantly. Ruth Tracy, who came in with her son, made her way towards Claire as Brains handed Jeff the results. The whole room was silent as the head of the Tracy household read through the document.

Then for what seemed like an eternity, Jeff Tracy looked up and turned his face away from all of them. "Well, dad?" asked Alan, unable to keep the suspense going. Tin Tin watched the Tracys carefully, and then at the girl, who was examining something on her fingers. She seemed nervous though she was doing a good job at hiding it.

"Dad?" Scott tried, walking over to his father. It was then Jeff turned back to them. His eyes were puffy as he handed Scott the papers. As his eldest son read them, Jeff turned to Claire, looking hard at her. Then he reached out and swept the girl into his arms.

"Welcome home, honey."

**xxxXxxx**

"So, what now?" John asked, hearing the news at last. His eyes were glistening as he smiled at his longtime missing cousin.

"The usual thing," Claire answered, looking at Jeff. "You continue on as if nothing happen and I go back to the agency."

"What? That's crazy!" Gordon interrupted. "They might know that you're working against them by now."

She shook her head. "I don't believe so. Besides, I need to find out more about the people that we're dealing here. All I have are just mere speculations when all I need is solid proof." She smiled at them all. "And knowing that you know the danger and would be careful in the future already makes me feel better."

Jeff regarded his niece, seeing her father all over again. "What's your theory, Claire?"

"I rather not say at this moment," she answered, reluctantly. "I still need more information but once I find out something, you'll be the first to know, Uncle Jeff."

"Do that," said Jeff, turning to his two eldest sons. "Scott and Virgil will send you back to mainland. They'll give you a number so that you can contact us once you found something."

Claire nodded, ready to move. "Roger that."

"And Claire?" he stopped her. He looked at her hard. "Take care. We lost you once and we're not willing to lose you again."

"Check."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**A/N:** This fic is looooong overdue. For that, I apologized. I totally forgot about this fic. Bad, bad Arayelle. I would like to thank **Fran Lavery**, **ms. imagine**, **sarah**, **moonlightbear** and **numbuh 14** for their kind reviews. I don't know if you're still interested in reading the fic but thank you for the support.


	3. The Traitor

**DISCLAIMER:** I just want to get this straight. Thunderbird DOES NOT belong to me. It belongs to a guy named Gary Andersen and his companions. Me, I'm just here to wreck the whole things up. Oh, and feedback, review, flames whatever you call it, are welcome ☺

**SPYGAME: THE TRAITOR.**

By Arayelle Lynn.

The phone rang the moment she stepped into her apartment. Knowing exactly who it would be, she dropped her gear onto the floor and made her way across the living room. She picked up the phone and listened for the person on the other end.

"It's me," the caller identified. "Report."

"I'm in," she reported over the secured line. "They never suspect anything once they've confirmed my identity. They were too busy being grateful that I'm still alive to be suspicious."

She could almost sense the caller smiled in satisfaction. "Good job. Do you have the item?"

Claire fished out a roll of film from her pocket. "Yeah, piece a cake."

"When will you make the drop?"

"Thursday afternoon. We're meeting at the coffee house."

"That means you have three days to do the necessary things." The caller paused. "Be careful, Claire. We've gone too long a way to just let all of this wash down the drain. So many things are at stake here."

She smiled at his concern. "Don't worry. You trained me too well to fail, remember?"

**xxXxx**

"So, what do you think, dad?" Gordon enquired, as soon as Scott and Virgil left to send off Claire.

"If it's about Dean's daughter being alive? I'm too overwhelmed to think further about it," Jeff Tracy answered. "If you're talking about Claire's warning? It's still too early to tell anything, aside for us to be more cautious from now on."

He walked over to his remaining sons. "No, what I'm more concern about is how a building as strong as that could collapse."

Gordon and Alan looked at each other. Building? "You mean the one we've been yesterday?" Alan prompted.

Jeff nodded at Brains. "Scott and Virgil mentioned the tenants' statements at the debriefing, remember? In fact, you supported them, Alan," said Brains.

"That's right. The tenants mentioned that there was something odd about the whole thing. They claimed to have heard a rumble minutes before the building collapses," Alan repeated for the sake of Tin Tin and Grandma Tracy, who had been entertaining Claire the day before.

"Well, Mr. Tracy have me ran a check on the building," said Brains. "And according to the result, there is no way that the building could've collapse. The foundation was too strong." Then his face was grim. "The only way for it to collapse like it did would be if someone _made_ it to happen."

"You suspect sabotage?" Jeff inquired, carefully.

Brains nodded. "But why?" Alan wondered.

Gordon's eyes widened. "You don't think that… someone lured us out?"

They all looked at Gordon. But his speculation was too valid to be overridden. "But who? Who wants to lure us to that place? Who has enough resources to collapse a whole building and trapped the residents just to gain our attention?"

As soon as Alan said those words, they were hit by a sudden realization. "Mr. Tracy, I know she's family and all but can we trust Claire?" Brains asked his employer. He knew what could be going on even before Alan pointed them out. Only, he was a little hesitant to accuse one of the Tracy's family members.

"Absolutely not!" they were all startled by the strength in Jeff's voice. The way he had treated Claire earlier had indicate otherwise but this… "She may be family but we don't exactly know her for the past thirteen years. The only thing we know about her was what she had told us."

"So, what are we going to do about it?"

"Lady Penelope is already on it," Jeff replied. "I had her on the plane this morning. I sent Scott and Virgil so that it won't look so suspicious when they escorted her home. They're supposed to find out where she's staying so Penelope and Parker could set up a stakeout."

"You're not calling in our agents in the US to assist her?"

Jeff shook his head. "Claire's family. We can't risk our agents finding out her real identity and link it to us. The smaller the number of people who knew about the Tracys' involvement in International Rescue, the better."

"Gee, dad. You thought of everything," said Alan, sheepishly.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Tin Tin, who had been silent the whole time.

"We'll wait. Her next move will decide if my niece is indeed an ally or foe."

**xxXxx**

"This is wrong," said Virgil, breaking the silence. "I mean I know that it is necessary but god, Scott, we should be celebrating her return with a party. Not a stakeout."

Scott turned to his brother. He knew that, of all of them, he was the closest to Valerie since they were the same age and were born a month apart. However, they were not a normal family in a normal family business. They have to do this in order to ensure the safety of their operations.

"I understand, Virg, but think about all the things that we could lose if we're not careful," he said, gently. Then he reached over to pat his brother's shoulder. "Tell you what. When we get back, let's ask father if we could assist Penelope in her stakeout. Maybe that could ease up our nerves."

Virgil smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Scott. You don't know how much that means to me."

"I'm glad that settles it," said his brother, looking ahead. "Now, if you would be a good boy and strap yourself. We're almost there."

**xxXxx**

"She's up!" came a loud whisper, which startled Scott and Lady Penelope out of their slumber. They yawned and rose from their respective couches. They joined Virgil at the window. He was looking through a pair of binoculars.

"What did you see?" asked Scott, squinting to take a better look inside the opposite apartment. The sun was still rising and the street was dark. "What is she doing?"

"Uh, she seemed to be taking off her… oof," Virgil grunted when Lady Penelope dug her elbow into his stomach. She grabbed the binoculars and pushed him out of the way. "I never thought that you were a Peeping Tom, Virgil Tracy," she said.

Virgil scratched his head, chuckling. "I guess, I got caught in the moment. I rarely go for a stakeout."

Scott laughed, the sleep was completely gone. "I've heard Virgil been called by many names but never that. And never by a woman of your status, Lady Penelope."

Just then, the door opened and Parker came in with a box of donuts and four cups of coffee. He was scowling. "Not my favorite choice of breakfast but this is what Mr. Virgil insisted." He shook his head. "And it's the only edible thing I could find in this city. I swear, how the city folks could consume such stuff."

"That'll be fine, Parker," said Lady Penelope, watching Claire. The young woman was going into the shower. "When in America, do as the Americans do."

"Ahh… food!" Virgil rubbed his hands together. He licked his lips as his stomachs growled. Scott was already munching a chocolate flavored donut, his favorite. Parker looked at the donuts suspiciously at first. Then, when he saw Scott grabbed his second one, he decided that it was safe enough to eat.

Lady Penelope watched the whole thing in amusement. It had been two days since their first set their mission. Jeff managed to let the small apartment as their base of operation. The apartment was exactly opposite Claire Hudson's, which provide them a good view of her movements in her apartment. But it was far enough so that she wasn't aware of being watched.

So far, Claire hadn't done anything suspicious. She woke up very early in the morning, went to work and came back by dinnertime. She was just like an ordinary working girl. It made Penelope doubt if the girl's indeed working with an intelligence agency.

So, she decided to dig in deeper. And to do that, she would need to have someone inside.

"Parker, if you're quite finish with breakfast, I have a new job proposition for you," she said, turning to her chauffeur and right hand man. Three custard-smeared faces look up at her, blinking confusedly.

"Huh?"

She almost shook her head, amused. "What do you have in mind, milady?" asked the older man.

"Ever think about being a janitor?"

**xxXxx**

Claire walked down the lobby, towards the elevator. She spared a few smiles as she went along. She even greeted the young security guard, whom she knew had a crush on her since his first day. She also paused to listen to those who asked her about the new computer program that her department was working on and answered them patiently until she at last, reached the elevator.

Thankfully, there was no one there except for the janitor. She thanked her lucky stars. Being early gave her the benefit of riding the elevator without having to face the human jam. And it also provided her with a perfect cover because to the public eyes, the building that she's working in dealt with computers. However, unknown to many but a certain few, the top secret agency was based below the building in an underground headquarters. And the only way down was this particular elevator that she was standing before. Once the coast is clear, she would be taken down to her real working place.

Suddenly, she was aware of someone standing beside her. Casually, she greeted the man. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied.

There was silence.

"You have the plans?" he asked, softly. His nonchalance expression reflected his years of experience in the field.

"Yes," she said, knowing that this was the person she needed to contact. "But this isn't the right place to talk." She spied the janitor, who was working not far away.

"We'll continue this tomorrow then," he responded. "Be there."

"I will."

Just then, the elevator chimed and opened. They entered. Not a word was exchanged after that.

Once the elevator door was closed, the janitor tapped his microphone. "Got that, milady?"

"Yes." Was the response he got. "Looks like our patience has paid off. Something is going down tomorrow."

"You don't sound too happy."

"Indeed. It doesn't sound too good for the Tracys." She sighed. "Come along, Parker. Let the real janitor do his job."

**xxXxx**

Jeff listened to Penelope, his face grim. His eyes continued to study the screen, more precisely, his sons' faces as they stood behind the Englishwoman. "And you're certain that you saw Claire entering a room in her apartment with a roll of film?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Yes. Using Brains' high-tech binoculars, we were able to focus the image. And she had been having the film in the outfit that she was wearing when she dropped by at Tracy Island." Penelope paused, sparing a look at the two boys behind her. "And late last night, she had been studying something that she had taken from that room rather attentively."

Scott and Virgil looked up at that. It was obvious that they didn't know that bit of information because they were sleeping at the time.

He sighed. So much for a family reunion. He felt devastatingly disappointed that the one that would betray him had been none other than his own flesh and blood. "So, it's safe to assume that the room is where she developed her films. And that she's making a drop off sometime tomorrow."

"It's possible, yes."

'But it's also possible that they had just caught on something entirely different. Something that involves Claire's line of work,' he thought, but didn't say it aloud. He didn't want them to keep their hopes up. The word 'plans' in Claire's conversation itself was enough to incriminate her in having copies of the Thunderbirds' secret plans.

He glanced at Tin Tin, who was sitting next to Alan. She gave him an apologetic look which he acknowledged with a tiny smile. He had asked the Malay girl about the morning when Claire was asleep at the lounge with the boys. She had told him that Claire was already up.

'That would be the perfect time for her to act. Who knows if she was even asleep?' he thought, shaking his head mentally.

He forced himself back to reality. This time, his words were directed to Scott and Virgil. "You two alright about this?" he asked, worrying about how his two eldest were taking the whole thing.

"We're fine, dad," Scott answered for both them. "In fact, we had just discussed our next plan of action."

Virgil leaned in as Penelope slipped away. "We will tail Claire from her apartment. Penelope and Parker will go in their rental car while I'll be on a bike, undercover, of course."

"And I'll be staying here to keep things in order," said Scott. "It'll be like Mobile Control."

His brother threw him a teasing glance. "That's because he has forgotten how to ride a bike. Too much time in the air, I suppose."

Scott threw him a look that promised a great whack when they signed off. "Between Penelope and Virgil on the road, we will find where she was planning to make the drop off," he reported.

Jeff nodded, pleased with his sons' show of professionalism. They were not going to let personal feelings influenced their judgment. "Looks like you have everything covered. You may proceed as planned." He paused, looking at their faces. "Be careful."

**xxXxx**

"Okay, spot the fish and am ready with the line and hook," Virgil whispered to his watch.

"What the hell…" came the response that sounded suspiciously like Scott.

Virgil raised his watch again. "Penelope had just left with the boat."

"Virgil, I know you've been watching way too many spy movies but could you please talk in English," came Scott's irritated voice.

Virgil rolled his eyes. He swore that Scott never had a sense of adventure. "Claire's left the building. Penelope's off and I'm off too," he rephrased for his brother's benefit.

"There you go. You can really speak plain English, can't you?"

He stuck a tongue at his brother and signed off.

Virgil pedaled along the sidewalk, keeping his eyes closely on Claire's midnight blue convertible. Two cars behind her was Penelope's pink Rolls Royce. The streets of Washington were busy as always. They had barely left the block when they were trapped in traffic. That suited Virgil fine because then, he didn't have to struggle to keep up with the faster form of transportation.

The plan was pretty simple. He, Penelope and Parker were supposed to tail Claire to find out where she was heading to. The reason Virgil was on a bike was to ensure that at least someone keep a tail on Claire should she ditched the car. And besides, a bike is more appropriate on sidewalks and small alleys than a car. And it wouldn't draw as much attention as that of a _pink_ Rolls Royce.

So Virgil rode on, pausing when Claire was trapped in traffic and occasionally, rode ahead only to duck behind an alley to wait until Claire's car passed him. It was slow but after nearly half an hour, the blue convertible left the lining cars and parked in front of a bank.

"She's on the move. I repeat, she's on the move," said Virgil, stopping a few blocks away from the bank.

"I'm not deaf, you don't have to repeat," came Scott's reply. But he could clearly detect a tone of excitement in his voice.

"Copy that," said Penelope as the pink Rolls Royce passed the bank. Virgil knew that she would be finding a parking space a few blocks ahead just to avoid suspicion.

Virgil pretended to tie his shoelace as he watched Claire climbed out of the car. She glanced about her for a moment, as if checking the perimeter and then walked away. She was holding nothing in her hands except for a handbag that was slung on her shoulder.

He followed her casually, pushing the bike with him. He was thankful that he decided to wear his riding gear. He knew that it would take Claire a long and closer look to determine who was following her. And his sunglasses made it hard for anyone to see who he was watching.

Claire stopped at a coffee house. Virgil nearly smacked his forehead at the familiarity of the trait here. He had expected a more complicated scenario, where Claire would slip something into someone's bag or something. He had expected something that resembles the spy movies that he watched in the past.

He saw Claire sat at a table, waiting. He craned his neck when a waiter came over, thinking that he was her contact. But the waiter proved to be a real waiter when Virgil saw him jotting down Claire's orders.

A few minutes later, he saw a man and a young woman approaching Claire's table. Virgil drew a sharp breath when the old man stumbled, nearly on top of Claire. The young woman steadied the old man, looking at Claire apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Without his glasses, my father couldn't see an elephant even if it was standing right before him," she said, her voice was heavily accented.

"That's alright," Virgil heard Claire reply as she watched father and daughter settled down at a table not far away.

Then Virgil heard a tap from his earpiece. "Is everything loud and clear?" asked a female voice.

"Sure is. Good job, Parker," said Scott. Virgil gave a thumb up to the _father_ and _daughter_. He realized then that Parker had faked the stumble to slip a tiny microphone into Claire's pocket.

He waited some more.

"Claire?" a voice jarred Virgil out of reverie. He returned his attention back to Claire and saw two men and a woman standing before her. One of the men was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

Huh?

He frowned. Why would someone bring flowers to a secret meeting? Was that to throw anyone who might've been watching them off track? Or had they totally been wrong about the whole thing? And that Claire had been innocent the whole time?

"Larry!" Claire greeted, with the same enthusiasm as one would when greeting an old friend. She stood up and kissed the man's cheek, accepting the flowers. "It's been a long time. How have you been?" she asked, smiling.

"Fine," he said, and then turned to the other two, who were holding hands. "This is my friend Robert." The bald man, who in Virgil's personal opinion, look seriously like someone belonged to a spy movie, nodded. "And his wife, Lydia." The woman shook hands with Claire.

"We heard so much about you that we had to meet you right away," said the woman.

"What's this?" Virgil heard Scott said doubtfully. He himself was confused as well.

"Hold it," said Penelope, as the four seated. "Parker said he's the same man that Claire talked to yesterday. Let's keep watch."

And they did. It was then, they heard the tone of the conversation changed. The woman seemed to be watching the surroundings while the bald man studied Claire carefully. The man that Parker claimed he saw was the one doing the talking.

"Do you have the information?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," said Claire, she sounded all professional-like and in control. From her purse, she fished out a mini disc. "See for yourself," she said, handing the disc to 'Larry'.

He took it without a word and handed it to the bald man. The man took out a device that looked a lot like a PDA and insert the disc into a slot. Then, he nodded, giving 'Larry' a look at the screen.

He looked at Claire, his eyes betrayed his admiration. "I don't know how you could've done it, Agent Hudson but you've done something even my best agents failed to do," he said to her. "Acquiring the blueprints of the International Rescue's Thunderbirds is nearly an impossible task to achieve."

Virgil drew a sharp breath. He felt as if something had stabbed his insides. So, Claire _was_ a traitor!

"I hope this will seal our little arrangement?" Claire inquired her voice cool and calm. There wasn't even a trace of guilt in her voice.

"We'll cross that bridge once we've checked the validity of the information," said 'Larry'. "But I will say one thing to you. It looks promising," he said. "Indeed, Agent Allen had been right in his claim. You're good."

Claire shrugged at his compliment, nonchalantly.

Virgil started to fidget. He watched as the bald man removed the disc from the slot, preparing to store it in his briefcase. "This can't be happening. We must get the disc back before we're ruined."

"What are you planning, Virg?" asked Scott, warily. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I'll meet you back at the apartment," he said, ripping off the earpiece. He swung his legs on the bike and started to paddle, furiously. The bald man had the disc in his hand as he poised to place it into the briefcase.

Suddenly Virgil reached over and snatched the disc. He faltered a little as his eyes met the bald man's green ones. Something cold ran through his body as he felt the man's sharp gaze penetrated his disguise to see who he really was. Now that Virgil was face-to-face with him, he couldn't help but thought that the man was dangerous.

All that happened in seconds. Then, his legs pumped the paddle and the spell was over when their gazes broke. As he left the bewildered agents, he vaguely recalled someone shouting and someone chasing him.

For now, his family's secret was safe with him.

**xxXxx**

Claire entered her apartment wearily. She had spent the whole morning playing a dangerous spy game, chased an unknown biker, who stole something very important in her mission and spent the whole day trying to locate him and contemplating over what the new development meant.

All the efforts, all the sacrifices, the risks, went down the drain.

Now she couldn't think anymore. To appear with another set of information would draw suspicion in her part. To start back to the beginning would be a waste of time. Her only hope was to find the biker before they find him.

Just as she was about to reach for the light, her instincts warned her that she was not alone. Whipping up her gun, she aimed it at a corner as the room was flooded with lights.

"Scott!" she gasped, recognizing the intruder. "What are you doing here?"

Scott looked at her, his face grim. In his hands, she saw pieces of papers. _Familiar_ pieces of papers. Her mouth opened then closed, her eyes narrowed. "How could you, Valerie? How could you betray our trust?"

"So, it was _you_?" she exclaimed, figuring out everything. "You had me followed?"

"You were going to sell us out. Us, your own family."

But Claire didn't seem to be listening to him. And the gun pointed unwavering at him. "You guys ruined _everything_! I've spent my whole life trying to cut a deal with these guys!"

"Yeah but you were selling us out, remember?" Scott responded, sarcastically. "So, forgive us for ruining your _deal_."

Claire's lips parted at his accusing words. Then something dawned on her. "What? You mean… you think… that I betrayed you?" she sputtered. Then she started to giggled maniacally before lowering the gun and slumped onto the couch, burying her head in her hands.

"I thought you trust me," she said, inhaling a gulpful of air to keep her anger from exploding.

"Luckily we didn't," Scott answered, a little startled by her reaction. He then looked at the blueprints and pictures. "It looks like you were planning to sell off everything about International Rescue." He held up some photographs. "Including our identity."

Claire stared at him. "They're all fake, Scott."

"What?"

She nodded at the blueprints. "Look carefully."

He did and once he was done, he looked up. More questions played in his mind. "What does this mean? Where are the real blueprints?"

"Tracy Island," she answered. "Safe in Brains' lab, if you'd bother to check."

"But how did you get these?"

She shrugged, standing up. "I took pictures of them while I was there," she said, disappearing into the dark room. "Then, I developed the film and scanned the photos into the computer. I had a friend make some changes, mostly on the essential parts, without making so much of a drastic change so it would not be noticeable." She appeared again. "And then, sell the false information to the people that I was dealing with."

"So, what happened to the original photos?"

She handed him a dustbin. There was something black and burnt in it. "Destroyed. The same with the information that I stored in my computer." She nodded at the notebook on the table. "The reason why I keep these false blueprints around was to make sure that they believed I sold them the real thing."

Scott looked at her, confused. "I don't understand. Why?"

Claire sighed. "I didn't want to tell you this earlier because I know that you people would try to stop me." She took a deep breath. "I was planning to infiltrate the bad guy group since day one. And the only way to do that was to deliver the information that they desperately want."

"And so, you high jacked my plane, broke through our secret files and lied to us all?"

She stared at him. "Don't take that tone on me. I was there to warn you as much as to gather the information." She shook her head. "In fact, everything that I do now is for all of you as well as your secret organization."

Before he could respond to that, his watch chimed. "Scott here."

"Scott! Thank god you're still safe," said Penelope, relief washed through her. "You had us worried when no one was waiting at the apartment."

Scott frowned. "What do you mean no one? Virgil said that he'd be there in five minutes and that's an hour ago."

Penelope frowned. "But he's not here. Not even his bike."

Scott's frown deepened as worry struck him. He looked at Claire and saw the spark of anxiety in her dark brown eyes. "Claire?"

"They have him," she whispered.

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay. Got stuff to settle and a life to run. Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Now, I'm turning my attention to my other fics (Wings of Destiny / Shattered Walls/ To Stand Alone) Ta!


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